My Kind of Fairy Tale
by LittleKnux2008
Summary: After Stacy Keibler is constantly left lying in a bruised heap on RAW, one man decides to help her and quickly becomes her friend in the process. But what happens when the line between friend is pushed to the breaking point? R
1. Chapter 1

**My Kind of Fairy Tale**

**Chapter 1**

          Stacy Keibler tried to keep her head high as she hurried up the steel entrance ramp and into the backstage area of the area.  Her lower lip was trembling, and her hand moved up to brush tears from her eyes before they could be shed.  There was a slight limp to her step, favoring her right ankle.

          In the past four weeks, her mild distaste of Eric Bischoff that anyone employed under him shared had intensified.  He _knew _she couldn't wrestle, but he had booked her into singles matches that she couldn't possibly win: Stacy versus Molly, Stacy versus Gail, Stacy versus Victoria, and just now, it had been Stacy versus Trish.  The blonde sighed, covering her face with one hand as she walked through the hallways of the arena, focusing on getting her things and leaving the arena.  Her match versus the newly-turned-face Trish had been a disaster, just like the rest.  For the fourth live RAW show in a row, she had been left in the ring, beaten down and humiliated.

          _'The only reason I was accepted into this company was my looks,' _she thought to herself, her expression miserable.  _'I can't wrestle worth anything, and when I do it's just to lose.  The medic knows my name because I've been constantly getting my ass handed to me, not like the other girls.  The others, they get hit with chair shots and they injure themselves trying to perform wrestling moves…' _she sighed softly.  _'What I wouldn't give to be one of them.'_

          The blonde finally reached the women's locker room, and set her hand on the handle.  All she wanted to do was go back to her hotel room and lay down.  She twisted the knob and pushed it open a crack.  Getting beat up a second time in a row for the night was not something she was looking forward to.  She looked over the Divas in the room, scouring the area for Molly or Gail.  As she did so, the Divas' conversation filtered to her.

          "All I'm saying is that Smackdown is full of women who just got onto the show because of their looks.  They can't wrestle worth anything!" Victoria exclaimed toward Lita, who was sitting on one of the two wooden benches in the room.  The redhead simply nodded her assent.  "Thankfully, RAW doesn't have that…" the raven-haired Diva paused to think, her lips pursing.  "Well, except for Stacy Keibler, that woman is a joke to wrestling."  On the other side of the door, Stacy froze, her back straight and stiff.  She bit her lip to keep tears from springing to her eyes.  It took a moment for her to realize that no one had responded to Victoria's statement.  Not even Lita!  There was no stopping the onslaught of tears now.

          Stacy turned away from the door and ran.  _'Even Lita thinks I can't wrestle…  And she's not to blame!  I can't!' _the blonde continued running, not caring where she ended up.  She just had to get away…away from it all.

          As she was approaching a corner, a man stepped out into her path.  Stacy had no time to stop, and thus collided straight into him, landing on the concrete floor.  "Stacy!  I'm sorry!" the man exclaimed, immediately offering a hand to help her up.  The blonde took it gratefully.

          "It's okay," she whispered softly.  "It's not your fault, I should've been looking where I was going," she told him, and moved to go, wiping the existing tears off of her face.  Before she could take the first step, however, he reached out and grasped her forearm, his touch gentle but firm.  Stacy turned around, eyes curious.

          "You alright, Stacy?" he asked, genuine concern on his face.

          Stacy barely realized her hands were shaking.  "I was humiliated and beat down tonight," she told him, her voice trembling.  "You're only asking because you want me out of here!  You want to know if I was humiliated enough that I don't want to show my face again in the WWE!" Adam gaped at her, shaking his head, trying to break into her rant.  "You're just like them…  You think I do nothing for the company, you think that I'm just eye candy for the fans!" she took a step back.  "You're just like them…Trish…Molly…Victoria…Lita," she broke into tears, sobs racking her body.

          Edge put his hands on her shoulders.  "Stacy, w-wh…" he was speechless, unable to find words to say.  Stacy suddenly set her hands on his chest and shoved him away.  As he stumbled back, she bolted away toward the parking lot.  "Stacy!" Edge cried after her.  She didn't turn, nearly leaping into her small car and driving away.

          Nearly an hour later, Edge stood in front of Stacy's hotel room door, his eyes focused on the gold numbers on the wood.  He had tried to convince the clerk at the hotel to give him her room number, but in the end the hundred dollar bill had been the deciding factor for the other man.  Edge shouldered the blonde's duffel bag, debating whether to knock or just leave the bag at her door.  _'Why did I even go and get it?' _Edge wondered to himself.  _'I guess I was just pitying her…  Yeah, that's it,' _he told himself, knowing full well that it in fact **wasn't **the reason why he had gone out of his way to be kind to Stacy.  Shaking his head to rid himself of those thoughts, the blonde man raised his arm.

          Taking a deep breath, he knocked.

          ---     ---     ---     ---     ---     ---     ---     ---     ---     ---

**Author's Note:  **Okay, okay…  So I shouldn't have started another story and deprived people of updates…  But I couldn't help it!  Anyway, I hope you like!  I won't be able to update from tomorrow to August 2nd…  And I'm going to miss two RAW shows in a row!  sigh  Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **I'm so, so, so, so, so sorry that it's been so long since an update! I hope you guys like this chapter, and I'm sorry if it's a little shorter than usual! Please review!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but the story idea...

**Distribution: **None, at the moment. Want it on your site? Take it, just gimme a link and notice!

* * *

**My Kind of Fairy Tale**

**Chapter 2**

"What do you want?" Stacy's voice asked defensively as she opened the door just a crack. Edge frowned, seeing her bloodshot, puffy eyes. He took the duffel bag off of his shoulder and offered it to her.

"You forgot this at the arena," he told her.

She looked from the bag to his eyes, obviously debating any alternate motives. Stacy was slightly ashamed, knowing that her tone hadn't been welcoming. Still, she didn't open her mouth to apologize. The blonde opened the door a little more, taking the bag away from him and setting it inside of her room. As she did so, Edge got a good look at her. She was already in her pajamas for the night—a simple baggy shirt and shorts. He noticed the ice pack around her ankle, held by a rubber band. Edge sighed heavily, debating what to say. She looked so fragile, so broken... The urge to reach out and hold her in his arms-to reassure her that everything was okay-was overwhelming. He pushed the feeling away as she spoke.

"Thank you," Stacy murmured, her voice hoarse.

"Welcome," he replied, and hesitated. It was clear that she wanted him to go, but all he wanted to do was stay. An awkward silence settled over them. "Listen about what you said to me at the arena," he started.

"Forget it," Stacy interrupted sharply. "Just forget I said anything about it. Now, I have to get some sleep," she started to close the door, but instinctively Edge reached out and put his hand against it, stopping her.

"You're not just eye candy, Stacy," he told her firmly. It was written over her eyes, her face... The idea had been implanted into her head, and she believed it now.

"Yeah, right, Edge," she scoffed, and then sighed. "Look, Edge. Thank you for giving me my bag. It was nice of you. I appreciate the comment, but don't lie to me. Everyone knows it and everyone believes it, okay? I know I got hired on my looks, and that's the only reason why I've still got my spot. Tonight was another night that another Diva beat me, without lifting a finger, if you still think I'm not here on looks," she looked at him in the eye. "Goodnight, Edge," she said firmly, and moved to close the door once more.

"Stacy!" Edge protested, and she stopped.

"What?"

"You aren't here for just your looks, damn it. I've seen you backstage; you're the life the party. You're the one Diva that brings the _fun _aspect into wrestling."

"By being a blonde bimbo," she shot back.

"No," he replied sharply. His tone softened as he continued. "I saw your match. You knew their wrestling ability was greater than yours, but you still went to that ring and fought. That says a lot, Stacy."

"All it says is that I can't wrestle worth a thing." 

"It says that you're brave," he corrected. He reached out, cupping her cheek with a hand. "Stop being so hard on yourself, Stacy," he told her.

She looked toward the side, and Edge's hand fell from her face. "Edge, we aren't even friends. Why are you going out of your way to tell me this?"

"I want to help you, Stacy."

"Why?"

"Because from what I've seen and heard of you, you're a sweet and nice person, and I know you don't deserve the shit Bischoff has been handing you," Edge said firmly, his eyes never straying from hers.

Stacy looked down as Edge's words began to sink in. Did he really want to help her? _'Yeah, right,' _she thought to herself. _'He wants what every guy who comes near me wants: to get into my pants. Who would honestly want to help me? I'm useless, and I can't give them anything in return except for the one thing I won't give.' _"What do you want, Edge?" she asked tiredly.

"What do you mean?" Edge replied, genuinely confused.

"You obviously want something, or you wouldn't be offering help," Stacy said dryly.

Edge ran his tongue over his lips, wording his answer. "Yeah, I want something. I want to see you happy, and I want to see you get back at Eric Bischoff," he told her.

Stacy blinked, surprised by his answer. "I think I'm pretty far beyond any help, Edge," she finally whispered.

"I can get you ready for that match."

Stacy bit down on her lip, and then shook her head slowly. "I'm sorry Edge," she told him, for what seemed like the millionth time. "Your offer's generous, but I have to say no." With that, she shut the door firmly. Edge ran a hand through his hair as he heard the lock slip into place.

He sighed heavily, turning down the hallway and making his way to his hotel room. _'You win some, you lose some,' _he told himself. The Canadian pulled out his keycard as he reached his room. _'Just let it go.'_

His heart, however, was severely detached from his mind by that point.

There would be no letting go.


End file.
